


Appearances Can Be Deceiving

by PajamaSecrets



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Comedy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:50:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2061738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PajamaSecrets/pseuds/PajamaSecrets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not what it looks like. Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Appearances Can Be Deceiving

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the Hannibal Summer of Rare Pairs!

1.

 

It was seven p.m., and things were beginning to wind down in the Forensics unit. Beverly had just finished up with work and was headed to the morgue to retrieve her car keys. Just before she opened the morgue’s door, she heard a broken moan echo from inside the room. 

 

She grasped the door handle, about to barge in to investigate when she heard it again.

 

And this time, the sound was accompanied by a set of voices. A very _familiar_ set of voices.

 

“Oh, god, Brian, right there.”

 

“Feels good, Jimmy?”

 

“ _Fuck,_ yes.”

 

“Wow, you’re tight.”

 

Another fevered groan. 

 

“I’m definitely gonna be feeling this tomorrow.”

 

Beverly slapped her hand over her mouth. She didn’t know if she should feel grossed out or feel happy that the two idiots had finally stopped beating around the bush. Her keys were still in there, though, and she needed to go home. Maybe she could sneak in without being noticed, if the boys had had the decency to do it behind a desk or something.

 

As quietly as humanly possible, she snuck through the door and headed for the storage closet where the team kept their stuff.

 

“Hey, Bev!” Brian’s voice rang out.

 

Beverly practically jumped out of her skin. She turned around, preparing herself for the worst.

 

Jimmy had his hands braced against one of the morgue tables, an expression of ecstasy painted on his face. Brian’s hands were grasping Jimmy’s shoulders, squeezing.

 

They were both fully clothed. 

 

“Jim’s neck was hurting again,” Brian said, continuing to massage Jimmy’s shoulders.

 

“This man’s hands are magical,” Jimmy sighed.

 

Brian raised an eyebrow at Beverly. “Why is your face all red? Did something happen?”

 

Beverly shrugged. “Nah, I was just running to get my keys. Gotta get home.”

 

“See you tomorrow, then,” Brian said.

 

Jimmy’s face scrunched up. “Ooh, that’s the spot.”

 

Beverly shook her head as she closed the morgue door behind her.

 

2.

 

In the lab, Brian stood over a scrap of cloth. He stretched his hand out to Jimmy without looking up from his work. “Hey, can you pass me a scraper? I think there might be dried blood here that Bev missed.” 

 

“Beverly never misses,” Jimmy said, “but yeah, sure.” 

 

Jimmy got up from his chair to walk to the supply table and promptly tripped over his own shoelaces. He collided into Brian’s chair, knocking them both to the ground. 

 

Jimmy’s body pinned Brian’s to the floor, his face uncomfortably squishing against Brian’s chest. Brian’s shoulder hit the ground hard, and he grunted in pain. Jimmy got up on his elbows, looking down at Brian. 

 

“Shit, did you hit your head?” Jimmy asked.

 

“No, my shoulder, _ow_.” Brian replied. 

 

They were bracing themselves to stand when the door to the lab opened.

 

“Zeller, Price, I need the toxicology reports for the—“ 

 

Jack Crawford stopped dead in his tracks. After a pause, he cleared his throat.

 

“I’ll come back later. And I expect workplace relations forms on my desk tomorrow.”

 

He turned and left, the door shutting with a sharp _click_.

 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Brian groaned.

 

3.

 

Beverly ducked her head into the lab. Brian was standing over his desk, his eyes downcast at a stack of paperwork.

 

“Brian?”

 

Brian squeaked in surprise and looked up at Beverly. “Yeah?” He asked.

 

“Just letting you know that Crawford wants the blood spatter analysis today.”

 

“O-okay, sure thing. Thanks.”

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“Nope,” Brian said, gritting his teeth. “Just got a headache.”

 

Beverly nodded in sympathy. “Ooh, sorry.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I’ll see you later, then,” she said. “Hope your headache clears up.”

 

Once the door closed behind her, Brian reached down and grabbed Jimmy’s hair. “Shit, are you trying to get us in trouble?”

 

Jimmy pulled away briefly, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “I’m sorry, but the look on your face was hilarious.”

 

“Shut up and keep going,” Brian said, tilting his head back.

 

“Yes sir,” Jimmy smiled. 


End file.
